


Truth and Reconciliation

by agent_florida



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-26
Updated: 2010-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:04:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_florida/pseuds/agent_florida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash barely made it out of that explosion alive, but it’s Epsilon who finds out that he’s still breathing. Unfortunately, both of them might be just too broken to repair.</p><p>Post-Revelation ep. 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

It would have taken more than a simulation soldier, even a sergeant, to take him out.  
  
He was Agent Washington. He was a Freelancer. And Freelancers weren’t easily cornered or easily destroyed. It was what had made the Meta a force to be reckoned with, and it was what made Wash so dangerous. He hadn’t even been the best of the best, but he was still better than these soldiers.  
  
Of course, he hadn’t been able to make it through without his armor power-up, but even with the added defense built into his MJOLNIR and York’s healing unit left over from that recovery mission, he had barely escaped with his life. His shield was at a critical low, as the low beeping in his HUD wouldn’t let him forget, and even though he knew he should be inconspicuously looking for safety, he couldn’t seem to move. Had he lost the neural connection with his suit? Had he been paralyzed in the blast?  
  
His vision was blurry and his ears were ringing, but above him he thought he could make out an orb blocking out the sun. “You okay?” it seemed to be asking him, the metallic overtone to his voice distracting. “What happened to you?”  
  
Oh, God. He knew that voice. A leaden weight settled itself in his stomach, and he steeled himself to make an effort. With minimal grunting and groaning, he pulled himself up slightly, resting on his elbows. “Got blown up by the Reds,” he said, every word difficult to pronounce. “Still not functioning properly.” He blinked a few times, and the picture in front of him came clearer into focus. It was a Monitor who had asked him the questions, and Wash knew. He knew who that was.  
  
“Your armor shorted in the joints.” The diction was eerily familiar. “Here. I can divert power from your chest plate.” And before Wash could consent, he felt the heavy feeling lifting from his arms and legs. “Can you move?”  
  
“I’m fine now. Thanks.” He stood slowly, looking for any weapon that he could take with him. No good. He had lost them both in the blast. He couldn’t be vulnerable, not here, not now, and he needed a weapon so he could keep a leg up on the Reds that had apparently joined Simmons and the medic. Guns. He needed guns. And Red Base was nearby. “Come with me,” he told the Monitor, and he moved as surreptitiously as he could towards the base.  
  
“Who are you, anyway? I don’t remember you,” the Monitor asked as it floated behind him.  
  
They ducked into Red Base together, but instead of heading for any kind of storage, Wash went straight for the underground holo chamber that he had seen while he had been searching for the Meta. Maybe it would help him, now that he finally had his hands on Epsilon. Maybe it would show him just what the memories were that had been locked inside of him for so long. “I’m a Freelancer. You’re an AI. I’m surprised you don’t remember,” he said off-handedly. No good would come of making him short-circuit before they reached the chamber.  
  
Ah, there the entrance was. “I’m not an AI! I’m not a thing. And who are you?” The voice sounded so eerily like Church that Wash almost did a double-take to ensure that he was still speaking to the floating orb.  
  
All right, he would have to try a different tactic. He sped down the ramp that took him to the main body of the holo chamber. “It’s me, Epsilon. It’s Agent Washington,” he stated clearly. Maybe that would jog his memory a little.  
  
Apparently not. “Who the fuck are you?” the Monitor asked him. “I have stuff in here for Washingtub, and for, like, a superhero and shit. And who's Epsilon? My name is Leonard Church, and I'm –“  
  
“Epsilon,” Wash interrupted him. They were on the main floor of the chamber now, and Wash knew he could be candid with the AI now that there was a place that could show his inner workings. “Did you ever stop to think that Caboose might not have been the best person for you to be getting your information from?”  
  
“Caboose is great! He tells the best stories,” the Monitor said. “There was a bunch of stuff about us being best friends. Oh, and that I should never trust anything anyone else says to me, because they’re all liars and meanies.”  
  
If Wash had had his helmet off, he would have been pinching his nose in frustration. As it was, he put his palm to his visor. “Well played, Caboose,” he mumbled. It looked like he would have to play his trump card. “Epsilon –“  
  
“Why do you keep calling me that?” the Monitor asked him. “My name is –“  
  
“Your name is Epsilon,” Wash interrupted. He made sure to say it slow, clear, and loud, so there would be no way to argue with him. It was in the reveal that he tripped on the delivery. “Epsilon, it’s me, it’s – it’s…” But the closer he got to the revelation, the more he wasn’t looking forward to the reunion. “It’s David,” he finally spat out.  
  
For a moment, the Monitor looked unaffected. Then, it gave a short twitch. A few seconds later, and it fell to the ground heavily, sparking blue along its chassis, its eyelike projector pointed straight at a wall.  
  
And this was exactly what Wash had been afraid of, every memory in those terabytes of storage unraveling itself at once, flashes of pictures changing every tenth of a second as the most unearthly metallic dual-toned scream echoed in the bleakness of the underground chamber. Wash remembered all of these things. He remembered because Epsilon had remembered, couldn’t help but remember, and he hated having to do this to him again, felt sick somewhere deep inside as the seconds dragged on into minutes. The sick screech still pierced through the air, making a feedback loop in Wash’s radio, and the images  _just didn’t stop_ , one horrendous thing after another, torture, war, rape…  
  
But the image he stuck on the longest, the one he kept coming back to, was that of a waterfall, a black figure going inside a base, and Wash knew that by showing him this, Epsilon was trying to tell him what he wanted. There was an unsolved mystery here; both of them knew it, and now it was Wash’s responsibility to tell Epsilon the truth.  
  
After what seemed like hours, Epsilon finally fell silent. Then, the floor of the holo chamber glowed, and instead of projecting 2D images onto a wall, the Monitor was projecting a holographic white figure, male, splayed across the floor as if broken. This, this was the Epsilon Wash knew, and he hated himself for being overcome with emotion as he drew closer. “Epsilon.”  
  
The figure’s eyes opened. “David.”  
  
“You can’t call me that any more.” He’d told his AI that more than once. “Listen, there’s people out there looking for you. I’ll host you until I can get you and the Meta out of here and back to Command.”  
  
The look on Epsilon’s face was insolent. “No way.”  
  
He had never talked back to Wash before, and Wash was shocked at this sudden switch in behavior. “Why not?”  
  
“There’s something I have to do first – something I have to see. The waterfall,” he explained after Wash gave no indication of understanding him.  
  
“Why the waterfall?”  
  
“I saw it – in a vision – out of the darkness came –“ The figure shook its head. “No, that’s not right…”  
  
Wash kneeled down next to the glowing holograph. “I’ll take you there.” It was another in a long series of promises he’d made to Epsilon, and he just hoped that his AI would believe him this time.  
  
There was a long moment where Epsilon was just staring at him, a revenant with ghostly white eyes in a ghostly white face. Then, he wasn’t there, and Wash wasn’t alone.


	2. Part Two

He couldn’t breathe. He was dizzy, kneeling on the cold floor of the holo chamber, and he couldn’t breathe. Two thoughts in his mind at once, and after so long with Epsilon in there, he couldn’t tell the difference between the two of them. The connection between them was as strong and strange as it had always been.  
  
 _God, has it really been that long?_ , and he didn’t know who was asking it, but he didn’t care as he shook his head slowly from side to side. The room was still spinning and his body was still aching, but he had promised Epsilon he would take him to the base by the waterfall. So many promises, so many things he had told Epsilon he would do for him, and he hadn’t followed through.  
  
 _I missed you._  It was a mutual yearning, a realization that they felt more complete with the other there. Wash knew that his own sanity had been on the fritz since going to prison for what he thought had been a rescue mission, and Epsilon didn’t seem to have fared any better from what he was getting – what in the hell had Caboose been telling him? Together, though, Wash didn’t have to separate what memories were his alone and which had been given to him by his AI. They were one unit, working together, perfectly in synch, thoughts so alike that it was different to tell Epsilon’s inner monologue from his own.  
  
 _I did a really stupid thing._  They both had, really. Killing himself inside Wash’s head wasn’t the smartest thing Epsilon had ever done, especially considering that it had been more for attention than anything else. His rampage on Command and his isolation to the storage unit was his just reward for that. Wash’s sin was setting off the emp, attempting to destroy everything Epsilon had ever worked for. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to have done any lasting damage to the Meta, even if he didn’t exactly know what was going on inside the suit any more.  
  
 _I know._  It almost hurt to be this close again, to reveal all the hidden shames they had both collected and concealed from everyone else, laying them out so openly because they were forced to share them all. Wash searched frantically through his mind for Epsilon’s avatar, tried to wait for him in neutral ground, but this one implantation was taking so long, and he was still on his hands and knees in the holo chamber, his eyes screwed shut against the mental agony, waiting for gravity to make sense again.  
  
 _I’m sorry._  Wash was never sorry. Epsilon was never sorry. To have to admit that to one another meant more than anything else ever would. They were both desperate for forgiveness, ready to move on, but Wash was still fighting the implantation and Epsilon was still fighting being shut out from Wash’s consciousness. Everything just felt wrong, wrong, wrong, the MJOLNIR too tight against his body, his head fit to split under the helmet, each shuddering breath reminding him of how close he had been to dying not an hour before.  
  
 _I forgive you._  And with that thought, he knew that everything had fallen into place.  
  
When he opened his eyes, he was in his mindscape, white and sparse and smelling of antiseptic, everything in order, information filed away. Of course, it wasn’t going to stay that way for long; as he brought himself off his hands and knees, he could see Epsilon, no more than ten yards away, his back to Wash. He was creating a mess as he acclimated himself back to the all-too-familiar mental environment. “It’s different in here,” he complained.  
  
Wash crossed his arms. “I had to make some changes after you left.”  
  
“Somebody else was in here.”  
  
It wasn’t a question, and Wash had to wonder just how he’d known that. “I had to – “  
  
“I don’t care what you had to do.  _Somebody else was in here._  You made me a promise. Nobody else before me, nobody else after me.” When he turned to look Wash in the eye, the extent of the fury written on his face made Wash flinch.  
  
“It was the Alpha.” He had Epsilon’s attention now. “You were the one always telling me about the Alpha, remember?” He stepped closer, trying not to hedge on Epsilon’s space but needing to know that his AI understood.  
  
“You… you hosted the Alpha?” The reverence in his tone was unmistakable. “What… how…”  
  
“He was a lot like you.” He was so close now that he could reach out and touch Epsilon, but he held back, hand hovering over his shoulder. “I unlocked him. We – “  
  
Epsilon pulled out a file from Wash’s filing cabinets. “The Meta. Yes. I remember now.”  
  
And Wash really did lay a hand on his shoulder; Epsilon was trembling, and he wanted to hold him, make the shivering stop, but it wasn’t time for that yet. “I didn’t want to host him. It didn’t – feel right, without it being you.”  
  
“You broke another promise, Wash. God, you suck.” Epsilon blew his fringe out of his face, betraying his agitation. “How many is that, now? All of them?”  
  
“I’ll be better. I promise.”  
  
He wasn’t prepared for Epsilon to swing around and punch him in the chest. The breath was knocked out of him, and Epsilon continued to beat at him. “You – keep – making – promises – do you realize how much it hurts?” He was sobbing now, his blows coming with less and less strength, and as he lost his motivation he let his head down to rest on Wash’s shoulder. “Promises – you never meant to keep any of them, did you? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”  
  
“That’s not true.” And he brought up his arms to hold Epsilon to him, which only made the sobbing and shaking worse. His AI was letting out all of the emotion he himself had been holding back. “I care about you.”  
  
“You don’t – you don’t,” Epsilon sobbed, but he didn’t fight Wash’s embrace.  
  
“I care.” He pressed a kiss into Epsilon’s hair, holding him as he shook out all those emotions. “Do you know how empty I’ve felt without you? Without someone else thinking alongside me? Every recovery mission I ever went on, I’d remember you. When Delta made me realize you might still be alive somewhere, I knew I needed to find you.” He rubbed Epsilon’s back, trying to iron out the shivers. “And I found you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”  
  
Epsilon was quiet for a few minutes, sniffling against Wash’s shoulder. Then, so quietly that Wash was almost sure he’d imagined it, “Let’s go.”  
  
He let Epsilon out of his arms for the briefest moment, wanting to wipe away the tear tracks he could see on his face, but before he could reach out and touch him, Epsilon’s hands were in his hair. He closed his eyes, knowing that this would not be easy – and yes, when their lips touched it unlocked emotions he thought he had sealed away, things that might have been better left unexamined.  
  
When he opened his eyes again, he was still on his hands and knees in the holo chamber, but down was firmly down again and the worst of the nausea was gone. Epsilon was in place in the back of his mind, quiet but still thinking in parallel. He shook his head once or twice – no dizziness. Good. “Let’s go,” he echoed Epsilon, dragging himself to his feet before leaving the holo chamber.  
  
\--  
  
“I keep telling you, there’s nothing here, Epsilon.”  
  
Epsilon was projected from his shoulder, scanning the area. Wash could feel his AI pouting at him from the back of his mind, almost as if it was his own face that was twisting. “We’re  _on top of_  the base. The guy went  _into_  the base.”  
  
“Wait – someone went into the base? No one would have been in here besides the Blues. You were here with Caboose while you were still in storage – don’t you remember –“  
  
And then he realized, like a blow to his stomach, what Epsilon was referring to. At the same time as the recognition hit him, Epsilon felt it, too, and he could feel his AI reeling. “I had a vision of Tex?”  
  
“It’s her body in the base right now. You said you saw a dark figure. It has to be her.” Wash moved to go inside. “I have to check. If the Alpha – if Church was right, then she shouldn’t –“  
  
Her body was still here. It had been shoved into a corner; someone had probably tried to brush it aside too violently, because the black armor was dented here and there, the helmet cracked as if a bullet had passed through it. “She’s…” Epsilon said quietly at his shoulder.  
  
Wash leaned down, trying to check the body. Wiring and plating were showing through the frayed bodysuit, and his biocomm didn’t register an organic body inside. “She’s gone, Epsilon.”  
  
“That’s not good, is it?”  
  
“What’s important is that you remember her.” He wished, and not for the first time, that his AI was an actual human being, so he could reach out the arm to his shoulder that he so badly wanted to do. Comforting gestures were hard, because it felt too much like he was trying to comfort himself. “Church said she was like him, and he was the Alpha. If I was right, he was able to find her. They’re both still out there somewhere, waiting on their chance to come back.”  
  
“We can give them that chance, right?” Epsilon sounded so much like a lost child then, and Wash wondered what exactly he thought his relationship with Church and Tex had been like.  
  
“Yes.” He stood. “We’re leaving. We’re taking the Meta and going back to the Chairman. Now that I have you, I know I can unlock their full potential – and you’ll finally get to meet him.”  
  
“And you’re not just saying that?”  
  
He wished he could still smile like he meant it; as it was, only one corner of his mouth would turn up. “No, I’m not just saying that. That’s one promise I’m intending to keep. Now come on. Let’s get going.”


End file.
